Ten Years Later

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"Oh! I understand you; you are at ease as far as the king isconcerned?"

"I have told you I was."

"But you are not so much so on my account?"

"I thought I had told you that I had faith in your loyaltyand discretion."

"No doubt, no doubt, but you must remember one thing ---- "

"What is that?"

"That I was not alone, that I had companions; and whatcompanions!"

"Oh! yes, I know them."

"And, unfortunately, my lord, they know you, too!"

"Well?"

"Well; they are yonder, at Boulogne, waiting for me."

"And you fear ---- "

"Yes, I fear that in my absence -- Parbleu! If I were nearthem, I could answer for their silence."

"Was I not right in saying that the danger, if there was anydanger, would not come from his majesty, however disposed hemay be to jest, but from your companions, as you say? To belaughed at by a king may be tolerable, but by the horse-boysand scamps of the army! Damn it!"

"Yes, I understand, that would be unbearable, that is why,my lord, I came to say, -- do you not think it would bebetter for me to set out for France as soon as possible?"

"Your presence will not prevent the report from spreading,if the tale has already transpired."

"Oh! it has not transpired, my lord, I will wager. At allevents, be assured I am determined upon one thing."

"What is that?"

"To blow out the brains of the first who shall havepropagated that report, and of the first who has heard it.After which I shall return to England to seek an asylum, andperhaps employment with your grace."

"Oh, come back! come back!"

"Unfortunately, my lord, I am acquainted with nobody herebut your grace, and if I should no longer find you, or ifyou should have forgotten me in your greatness?"

"Listen to me, Monsieur d'Artagnan," replied Monk; "you area superior man, full of intelligence and courage; youdeserve all the good fortune this world can bring you; comewith me into Scotland, and, I swear to you, I shall arrangefor you a fate which all may envy."

"Oh! my lord, that is impossible. At present I have a sacredduty to perform; I have to watch over your glory, I have toprevent a low jester from tarnishing in the eyes of ourcontemporaries -- who knows? in the eyes of posterity -- thesplendor of your name."

"Of posterity, Monsieur d'Artagnan?"

"Doubtless. It is necessary, as regards posterity, that allthe details of that history should remain a mystery; for,admit that this unfortunate history of the deal box shouldspread, and it should be asserted that you had notre-established the king loyally, and of your own free will,but in consequence of a compromise entered into atScheveningen between you two. It would be vain for me todeclare how the thing came about, for though I know I shouldnot be believed, it would be said that I had received mypart of the cake, and was eating it."

"I have on the banks of the Clyde," continued Monk, "alittle house in a grove, cottage as it is called here. Tothis house are attached a hundred acres of land. Accept itas a souvenir."

"Oh my lord! ---- "

"Faith! you will be there in your own home, and that will bethe place of refuge you spoke of just now."

"For me to be obliged to your lordship to such an extent!Really, your grace, I am ashamed."

"Not at all, not at all, monsieur," replied Monk, with anarch smile; "it is I who shall be obliged to you. And,"pressing the hand of the musketeer, "I shall go and draw upthe deed of gift," -- and he left the room.

D'Artagnan looked at him as he went out with something of apensive and even an agitated air.

"After all," said he, "he is a brave man. It is only a sadreflection that it is from fear of me, and not affectionthat he acts thus. Well, I shall endeavor that affection mayfollow." Then, after an instant's deeper reflection, --"Bah!" said he, "to what purpose? He is an Englishman." Andhe in his turn went out, a little confused after the combat.

"So," said he, "I am a land-owner! But how the devil am I toshare the cottage with Planchet? Unless I give him the land,and I take the chateau, or that he takes the house and I --nonsense! M. Monk will never allow me to share a house hehas inhabited, with a grocer. He is too proud for that.Besides, why should I say anything about it to him? It wasnot with the money of the company I have acquired thatproperty, it was with my mother-wit alone; it is all mine,then. So, now I will go and find Athos." And he directed hissteps towards the dwelling of the Comte de la Fere

CHAPTER 37

How D'Artagnan regulated the "Assets" of theCompany before he established its "Liabilities"

"Decidedly," said D'Artagnan to himself, "I have struck agood vein. That star which shines once in the life of everyman, which shone for Job and Iris, the most unfortunate ofthe Jews and the poorest of the Greeks, is come at last toshine on me. I will commit no folly, I will take advantageof it; it comes quite late enough to find me reasonable."

He supped that evening, in very good humor, with his friendAthos; he said nothing to him about the expected donation,but he could not forbear questioning his friend, whileeating, about country produce, sowing, and planting. Athosreplied complacently, as he always did. His idea was thatD'Artagnan wished to become a land-owner, only he could nothelp regretting, more than once, the absence of the livelyhumor and amusing sallies of the cheerful companion offormer days. In fact, D'Artagnan was so absorbed, that, withhis knife, he took advantage of the grease left at thebottom of his plate, to trace ciphers and make additions ofsurprising rotundity.

The order, or rather license, for their embarkation, arrivedat Athos's lodgings that evening. While this paper wasremitted to the comte, another messenger brought toD'Artagnan a little bundle of parchments, adorned with allthe seals employed in setting off property deeds in England.Athos surprised him turning over the leaves of thesedifferent acts which establish the transmission of property.The prudent Monk -- others would say the generous Monk --had commuted the donation into a sale, and acknowledged thereceipt of the sum of fifteen thousand crowns as the priceof the property ceded. The messenger was gone. D'Artagnanstill continued reading, Athos watched him with a smile.D'Artagnan, surprising one of those smiles over hisshoulder, put the bundle in its wrapper.

"No, don't tell me anything, I beg you; orders are things sosacred, that to one's brother, one's father, the personcharged with such orders should never open his mouth. ThusI, who speak to you, and love you more tenderly thanbrother, father, or all the world ---- "

"Except your Raoul?"

"I shall love Raoul still better when he shall be a man, andI shall have seen him develop himself in all the phases ofhis character and his actions -- as I have seen you, myfriend."

"You said, then, that you had an order likewise, and thatyou would not communicate it to me."

"Yes, my dear D'Artagnan."

The Gascon sighed. "There was a time," said he, "when youwould have placed that order open upon the table, saying,`D'Artagnan, read this scrawl to Porthos, Aramis, and tome.'"

"That is true. Oh! that was the time of youth, confidence,the generous season when the blood commands, when it iswarmed by feeling!"

"Well! Athos, will you allow me to tell you?"

"Speak, my friend!"

"That delightful time, that generous season, that ruling bywarm blood, were all very fine things, no doubt; but I donot regret them at all. It is absolutely like the period ofstudies. I have constantly met with fools who would boast ofthe days of pensums, ferules and crusts of dry bread. It issingular, but I never loved all that; for my part, howeveractive and sober I might be (you know if I was so, Athos),however simple I might appear in my clothes, I would not theless have preferred the braveries and embroideries ofPorthos to my little perforated cassock, which gave passageto the wind in winter and the sun in summer. I shouldalways, my friend, mistrust him who would pretend to preferevil to good. Now, in times past all went wrong with me, andevery month found a fresh hole in my cassock and in my skin,a gold crown less in my poor purse; of that execrable timeof small beer and see-saw, I regret absolutely nothing,nothing, nothing save our friendship; for within me I have aheart, and it is a miracle that heart has not been dried upby the wind of poverty which passed through the holes of mycloak, or pierced by the swords of all shapes which passedthrough the holes in my poor flesh."

"Do not regret our friendship," said Athos, "that will onlydie with ourselves. Friendship is composed, above allthings, of memories and habits, and if you have just nowmade a little satire upon mine, because I hesitate to tellyou the nature of my mission into France ---- "

"Who! I? -- Oh! heavens! if you knew, my dear friend, howindifferent all the missions of the world will henceforthbecome to me!" And he laid his hand upon the parchment inhis vest pocket.

Athos rose from the table and called the host in order topay the reckoning.

"Since I have known you, my friend," said D'Artagnan, "Ihave never discharged the reckoning. Porthos often did,Aramis sometimes, and you, you almost always drew out yourpurse with the dessert. I am now rich and should like to tryif it is heroic to pay."

"Do so," said Athos; returning his purse to his pocket.

The two friends then directed their steps towards the port,not, however, without D'Artagnan's frequently turning roundto watch the transportation of his dear crowns. Night hadjust spread her thick veil over the yellow waters of theThames; they heard those noises of casks and pulleys, thepreliminaries of preparing to sail which had so many timesmade the hearts of the musketeers beat when the dangers ofthe sea were the least of those they were going to face.This time they were to embark on board a large vessel whichawaited them at Gravesend, and Charles II., always delicatein small matters, had sent one of his yachts, with twelvemen of his Scotch guard, to do honor to the ambassador hewas sending to France. At midnight the yacht had depositedits passengers on board the vessel, and at eight o'clock inthe morning, the vessel landed the ambassador and his friendon the wharf at Boulogne. Whilst the comte, with Grimaud,was busy procuring horses to go straight to Paris,D'Artagnan hastened to the hostelry where, according to hisorders, his little army was to wait for him. These gentlemenwere at breakfast upon oysters, fish, and spiced brandy,when D'Artagnan appeared. They were all very gay, but notone of them had yet exceeded the bounds of reason. A hurrahof joy welcomed the general. "Here I am," said D'Artagnan,"the campaign is ended. I am come to bring to each hissupplement of pay, as agreed upon." Their eyes sparkled. "Iwill lay a wager there are not, at this moment, a hundredcrowns remaining in the purse of the richest among you."

"That is true," cried they in chorus.

"Gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, "then, this is the last order.The treaty of commerce has been concluded thanks to ourcoup-de-main which made us masters of the most skillfulfinancier of England, for now I am at liberty to confess toyou that the man we had to carry off was the treasurer ofGeneral Monk."

This word treasurer produced a certain effect on his army.D'Artagnan observed that the eyes of Menneville alone didnot evince perfect faith. "This treasurer," he continued, "Iconveyed to a neutral territory, Holland; I forced him tosign the treaty; I have even reconducted him to Newcastle,and as he was obliged to be satisfied with our proceedingstowards him -- the deal coffer being always carried withoutjolting, and being lined softly, I asked for a gratificationfor you. Here it is." He threw a respectable-looking purseupon the cloth; and all involuntarily stretched out theirhands. "One moment, my lambs," said D'Artagnan; "if thereare profits, there are also charges."

"Oh! oh!" murmured they.

"We are about to find ourselves, my friends, in a positionthat would not be tenable for people without brains. I speakplainly: we are between the gallows and the Bastile."

"Oh! oh!" said the chorus.

"That is easily understood. It was necessary to explain toGeneral Monk the disappearance of his treasurer. I waited,for that purpose, till the very unhopedfor moment of therestoration of King Charles II., who is one of my friends."

The army exchanged a glance of satisfaction in reply to thesufficiently proud look of D'Artagnan. "The king beingrestored, I restored to Monk his man of business, a littleplucked, it is true, but, in short, I restored him. Now,General Monk, when he pardoned me, for he has pardoned me,could not help repeating these words to me, which I chargeevery one of you to engrave deeply there, between the eyes,under the vault of the cranium: -- `Monsieur, the joke hasbeen a good one, but I don't naturally like jokes; if ever aword of what you have done' (you understand me, Menneville)`escapes from your lips, or the lips of your companions, Ihave, in my government of Scotland and Ireland, sevenhundred and forty-one wooden gibbets, of strong oak, clampedwith iron, and freshly greased every week. I will make apresent of one of these gibbets to each of you, and observewell, M. d'Artagnan,' added he (observe it also, M.Menneville), `I shall still have seven hundred and thirtyleft for my private pleasure. And still further ---- '"

"Ah! ah!" said the auxiliaries, "is there more still?"

"A mere trifle. `Monsieur d'Artagnan, I send to the king ofFrance the treaty in question, with a request that he willcast into the Bastile provisionally, and then send to me,all who have taken part in this expedition; and that is aprayer with which the king will certainly comply.'"

A cry of terror broke from all corners of the table.

"There! there! there," said D'Artagnan, "this brave M. Monkhas forgotten one thing, and that is he does not know thename of any one of you, I alone know you, and it is not I,you may well believe, who will betray you. Why should I? Asfor you -- I cannot suppose you will be silly enough todenounce yourselves, for then the king, to spare himself theexpense of feeding and lodging you, will send you off toScotland, where the seven hundred and forty-one gibbets areto be found. That is all, messieurs; I have not another wordto add to what I have had the honor to tell you. I am sureyou have understood me perfectly well, have you not, M.Menneville?"

"Perfectly," replied the latter.

"Now the crowns!" said D'Artagnan. "Shut the doors," hecried, and opened the bag upon the table, from which rolledseveral fine gold crowns. Every one made a movement towardsthe floor.

"Gently!" cried D'Artagnan. "Let no one stoop, and then Ishall not be out in my reckoning." He found it all right,gave fifty of those splendid crowns to each man, andreceived as many benedictions as he bestowed pieces. "Now,"said he, "if it were possible for you to reform a little, ifyou could become good and honest citizens ---- "

"That is rather difficult," said one of the troop.

"What then, captain?" said another.

"Because I might be able to find you again, and, who knowswhat other good fortune?" He made a sign to Menneville, wholistened to all he said with a composed air. "Menneville,"said he, "come with me. Adieu my brave fellows! I need notwarn you to be discreet."

Menneville followed him, whilst the salutations of theauxiliaries were mingled with the sweet sound of the moneyclinking in their pockets.

"Menneville," said D'Artagnan, when they were once in thestreet, "you were not my dupe; beware of being so. You didnot appear to me to have any fear of the gibbets of Monk, orthe Bastile of his majesty, King Louis XIV., but you will dome the favor of being afraid of me. Then listen at thesmallest word that shall escape you, I will kill you as Iwould a fowl. I have absolution from our holy father, thepope, in my pocket."

"I assure you I know absolutely nothing, my dear M.d'Artagnan, and that your words have all been to me so manyarticles of faith."

"I was quite sure you were an intelligent fellow," said themusketeer; "I have tried you for a length of time. Thesefifty gold crowns which I give you above the rest will provethe esteem I have for you. Take them."

"Thanks, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Menneville.

"With that sum you can really become an honest man," repliedD'Artagnan, in the most serious tone possible. "It would bedisgraceful for a mind like yours, and a name you no longerdare to bear, to sink forever under the rust of an evillife. Become a gallant man, Menneville, and live for a yearupon those hundred gold crowns: it is a good provision;twice the pay of a high officer. In a year come to me, and,Mordioux! I will make something of you."

Menneville swore, as his comrades had sworn, that he wouldbe as silent as the grave. And yet some one must havespoken; and as, certainly, it was not one of the ninecompanions, and quite as certainly, it was not Menneville,it must have been D'Artagnan, who, in his quality of aGascon, had his tongue very near to his lips. For, in short,if it were not he, who could it be? And how can it beexplained that the secret of the deal coffer pierced withholes should come to our knowledge, and in so complete afashion that we have, as has been seen, related the historyof it in all its most minute details; details which,besides, throw a light as new as unexpected upon all thatportion of the history of England which has been left, up tothe present day, completely in darkness by the historian ofour neighbors?

CHAPTER 38

In which it is seen that the French Grocerhad already been established in the Seventeenth Century

His accounts once settled, and his recommendations made,D'Artagnan thought of nothing but returning to Paris as soonas possible. Athos, on his part, was anxious to reach homeand to rest a little. However whole the character and theman may remain after the fatigues of a voyage, the travelerperceives with pleasure, at the close of the day -- eventhough the day has been a fine one -- that night isapproaching, and will bring a little sleep with it. So, fromBoulogne to Paris, jogging on, side by side, the twofriends, in some degree absorbed each in his individualthoughts, conversed of nothing sufficiently interesting forus to repeat to our readers. Each of them given up to hispersonal reflections, and constructing his future after hisown fashion, was, above all, anxious to abridge the distanceby speed. Athos and D'Artagnan arrived at the gates of Parison the evening of the fourth day after leaving Boulogne.

"No: after having embraced Raoul, with whom I have appointeda meeting at my hotel, I shall set out immediately for LaFere."

"Well, adieu, then, dear and true friend."

"Au revoir! I should rather say, for why can you not comeand live with me at Blois? You are free, you are rich, Ishall purchase for you, if you like, a handsome estate inthe vicinity of Chiverny or of Bracieux. On the one side youwill have the finest woods in the world, which join those ofChambord; on the other, admirable marshes. You who lovesporting, and who, whether you admit it or not, are a poet,my dear friend, you will find pheasants, rail and teal,without counting sunsets and excursions on the water, tomake you fancy yourself Nimrod and Apollo themselves. Whileawaiting the purchase, you can live at La Fere, and we shallgo together to fly our hawks among the vines, as Louis XIII.used to do. That is a quiet amusement for old fellows likeus."

D'Artagnan took the hands of Athos in his own. "Dear count,"said he, "I shall say neither `Yes' nor `No.' Let me pass inParis the time necessary for the regulation of my affairs,and accustom myself, by degrees, to the heavy and glitteringidea which is beating in my brain and dazzles me. I am rich,you see, and from this moment until the time when I shallhave acquired the habit of being rich, I know myself, and Ishall be an insupportable animal. Now, I am not enough of afool to wish to appear to have lost my wits before a friendlike you, Athos. The cloak is handsome, the cloak is richlygilded, but it is new, and does not seem to fit me."

Athos smiled. "So be it," said he. "But a propos of thiscloak, dear D'Artagnan, will you allow me to offer you alittle advice?"

"Yes, willingly."

"You will not be angry?"

"Proceed."

"When wealth comes to a man late in life or all at once,that man, in order not to change, must most likely become amiser -- that is to say, not spend much more money than hehad done before; or else become a prodigal, and contract somany debts as to become poor again."

"Oh! but what you say looks very much like a sophism, mydear philosophic friend."

"I do not think so. Will you become a miser?"

"No, pardieu! I was one already, having nothing. Let uschange."

"Then be prodigal."

"Still less, Mordioux! Debts terrify me. Creditors appear tome, by anticipation like those devils who turn the damnedupon the gridirons, and as patience is not my dominantvirtue, I am always tempted to thrash those devils."

"You are the wisest man I know, and stand in no need ofadvice from any one. Great fools must they be who think theyhave anything to teach you. But are we not at the Rue SaintHonore?"

"Yes, dear Athos."

"Look yonder, on the left, that small, long white house isthe hotel where I lodge. You may observe that it has but twostories; I occupy the first; the other is let to an officerwhose duties oblige him to be absent eight or nine months inthe year, -- so I am in that house as in my own home,without the expense."

"Oh! how well you manage, Athos! What order and whatliberality! They are what I wish to unite! But, of what usetrying! that comes from birth, and cannot be acquired."

"You are a flatterer! Well! adieu, dear friend. A propos,remember me to Master Planchet; he was always a brightfellow."

"And a man of heart, too, Athos. Adieu."

And they separated. During all this conversation, D'Artagnanhad not for a moment lost sight of a certain pack-horse, inwhose panniers, under some hay, were spread the sacoches(messenger's bags) with the portmanteau. Nine o'clock wasstriking at Saint-Merri. Planchet's helps were shutting uphis shop. D'Artagnan stopped the postilion who rode thepack-horse, at the corner of the Rue des Lombards, under apenthouse, and calling one of Planchet's boys, he desiredhim not only to take care of the two horses, but to watchthe postilion; after which he entered the shop of thegrocer, who had just finished supper, and who, in his littleprivate room, was, with a degree of anxiety, consulting thecalendar, on which, every evening, he scratched out the daythat was past. At the moment when Planchet, according to hisdaily custom, with the back of his pen, erased another day,D'Artagnan kicked the door with his foot, and the blow madehis steel spur jingle. "Oh! good Lord!" cried Planchet. Theworthy grocer could say no more; he had just perceived hispartner. D'Artagnan entered with a bent back and a dull eye:the Gascon had an idea with regard to Planchet.

"Ah, I see," continued Planchet, more and more alarmed, "theexpedition has been a trying one?"

"Yes," said D'Artagnan. A shudder ran down Planchet's back."I should like to have something to drink," said themusketeer, raising his head piteously.

Planchet ran to the cupboard, and poured out to D'Artagnansome wine in a large glass. D'Artagnan examined the bottle.

"What wine is that?" asked he.

"Alas! that which you prefer, monsieur," said Planchet;"that good old Anjou wine, which was one day nearly costingus all so dear."

"Ah!" replied D'Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, "Ah! mypoor Planchet, ought I still to drink good wine?"

"Come! my dear master," said Planchet, making a superhumaneffort, whilst all his contracted muscles, his pallor, andhis trembling, betrayed the most acute anguish. "Come! Ihave been a soldier and consequently have some courage; donot make me linger, dear Monsieur d'Artagnan; our money islost, is it not?"

Before he answered, D'Artagnan took his time, and thatappeared an age to the poor grocer. Nevertheless he didnothing but turn about on his chair.

"And if that were the case," said he, slowly, moving hishead up and down, "if that were the case, what would yousay, my dear friend?"

Planchet, from being pale, turned yellow. It might have beenthought he was going to swallow his tongue, so full becamehis throat, so red were his eyes!

D'Artagnan, with his neck elongated, his legs stretched out,and his hands hanging listlessly, looked like a statue ofdiscouragement. Planchet drew up a sigh from the deepestcavities of his breast.

"Well," said he, "I see how it is. Let us be men! It is allover, is it not? The principal thing is, monsieur, that yourlife is safe."

"Doubtless! doubtless! -- life is something -- but I amruined!"

"Cordieu! monsieur!" said Planchet, "if it is so, we mustnot despair for that; you shall become a grocer with me; Ishall take you for my partner, we will share the profits,and if there should be no more profits, well, why then weshall share the almonds, raisins and prunes, and we willnibble together the last quarter of Dutch cheese."

D'Artagnan could hold out no longer. "Mordioux!" cried he,with great emotion, "thou art a brave fellow on my honor,Planchet. You have not been playing a part, have you? Youhave not seen the pack-horse with the bags under the shedyonder?"

"What horse? What bags?" said Planchet, whose tremblingheart began to suggest that D'Artagnan was mad.

"Why, the English bags, Mordioux!" said D'Artagnan, allradiant, quite transfigured.

"Ah! good God!" articulated Planchet, drawing back beforethe dazzling fire of his looks.

"Imbecile!" cried D'Artagnan, "you think me mad! Mordioux!On the contrary, never was my head more clear, or my heartmore joyous. To the bags, Planchet, to the bags!"

"But to what bags, good heavens!"

D'Artagnan pushed Planchet towards the window.

"Under the shed yonder, don't you see a horse?"

"Yes."

"Don't you see how his back is laden?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Don't you see your lad talking with the postilion?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Well, you know the name of that lad, because he is yourown. Call him."

"Abdon! Abdon!" vociferated Planchet, from the window.

"Bring the horse!" shouted D'Artagnan.

"Bring the horse!" screamed Planchet.

"Now give ten crowns to the postilion," said D'Artagnan, inthe tone he would have employed in commanding a maneuver;"two lads to bring up the two first bags, two to bring upthe two last, -- and move, Mordioux! be lively!"

Planchet rushed down the stairs, as if the devil had been athis heels. A moment later the lads ascended the staircase,bending beneath their burden. D'Artagnan sent them off totheir garrets, carefully closed the door, and addressingPlanchet, who, in his turn, looked a little wild, --

"Now, we are by ourselves," said he, and he spread upon thefloor a large cover, and emptied the first bag into it.Planchet did the same with the second; then D'Artagnan, allin a tremble, let out the precious bowels of the third witha knife. When Planchet heard the provoking sound of thesilver and gold -- when he saw bubbling out of the bags theshining crowns, which glittered like fish from the sweep-net-- when he felt himself plunging his hands up to the elbowin that still rising tide of yellow and white coins, agiddiness seized him, and like a man struck by lightning, hesank heavily down upon the enormous heap, which his weightcaused to roll away in all directions. Planchet, suffocatedwith joy, had lost his senses. D'Artagnan threw a glass ofwhite wine in his face, which incontinently recalled him tolife.

"Ah! good heavens! good heavens! good heavens!" saidPlanchet, wiping his mustache and beard.

At that time, as they do now, grocers wore the cavaliermustache and the lansquenet beard, only the money baths,already rare in those days, have become almost unknown now.

"Mordieux!" said D'Artagnan, "there are a hundred thousandcrowns for you, partner. Draw your share, if you please, andI will draw mine."

"Oh! the lovely sum! Monsieur d'Artagnan, the lovely sum!"

"I confess that half an hour ago I regretted that I had togive you so much, but I now no longer regret it; thou art abrave grocer, Planchet. There, let us close our accounts,for, as they say, short reckonings make long friends."

"Oh! rather, in the first place, tell me the whole history,"said Planchet; "that must be better than the money."

"Ma foi!" said D'Artagnan, stroking his mustache, "I can'tsay no, and if ever the historian turns to me forinformation, he will be able to say he has not dipped hisbucket into a dry spring. Listen, then, Planchet, I willtell you all about it."

"And that is it," said Planchet, picking up his firsthandful of crowns.

CHAPTER 39

Mazarin's Gaming Party

In a large chamber of the Palais Royal, hung with a darkcolored velvet, which threw into strong relief the gildedframes of a great number of magnificent pictures, on theevening of the arrival of the two Frenchmen, the whole courtwas assembled before the alcove of M. le Cardinal deMazarin, who gave a card party to the king and queen.

A small screen separated three prepared tables. At one ofthese tables the king and the two queens were seated. LouisXIV., placed opposite to the young queen, his wife, smiledupon her with an expression of real happiness. Anne ofAustria held the cards against the cardinal, and herdaughter-in-law assisted her in the game, when she was notengaged in smiling at her husband. As for the cardinal, whowas lying on his bed with a weary and careworn face, hiscards were held by the Comtesse de Soissons, and he watchedthem with an incessant look of interest and cupidity.

The cardinal's face had been painted by Bernouin; but therouge, which glowed only on his cheeks, threw into strongercontrast the sickly pallor of his countenance and theshining yellow of his brow. His eyes alone acquired a morebrilliant luster from this auxiliary, and upon those sickman's eyes were, from time to time, turned the uneasy looksof the king, the queen, and the courtiers. The fact is, thatthe two eyes of the Signor Mazarin were the stars more orless brilliant in which the France of the seventeenthcentury read its destiny every evening and every morning.

Monseigneur neither won nor lost; he was, therefore neithergay nor sad. It was a stagnation in which, full of pity forhim, Anne of Austria would not have willingly left him; butin order to attract the attention of the sick man by somebrilliant stroke, she must have either won or lost. To winwould have been dangerous, because Mazarin would havechanged his indifference into an ugly grimace; to lose wouldlikewise have been dangerous, because she must have cheated,and the infanta, who watched her game, would, doubtless,have exclaimed against her partiality for Mazarin. Profitingby this calm, the courtiers were chatting. When not in a badhumor, M. de Mazarin was a very debonnaire prince, and he,who prevented nobody from singing, provided they paid, wasnot tyrant enough to prevent people from talking, providedthey made up their minds to lose.

They were therefore chatting. At the first table, the king'syounger brother, Philip, Duc d'Anjou, was admiring hishandsome face in the glass of a box. His favorite, theChevalier de Lorraine, leaning over the back of the prince'schair, was listening, with secret envy, to the Comte deGuiche, another of Philip's favorites, who was relating inchoice terms the various vicissitudes of fortune of theroyal adventurer Charles II. He told, as so many fabulousevents, all the history of his perigrinations in Scotland,and his terrors when the enemy's party was so closely on histrack, of nights spent in trees, and days spent in hungerand combats. By degrees, the fate of the unfortunate kinginterested his auditors so greatly, that the play languishedeven at the royal table, and the young king, with a pensivelook and downcast eye, followed, without appearing to giveany attention to it, the smallest details of this Odyssey,very picturesquely related by the Comte de Guiche.

The Comtesse de Soissons interrupted the narrator: "Confess,count, you are inventing."

"Madame, I am repeating like a parrot all the storiesrelated to me by different Englishmen. To my shame I amcompelled to say, I am as exact as a copy."

"Charles II. would have died before he could have enduredall that."

Louis XIV. raised his intelligent and proud head. "Madame,"said he, in a grave tone, still partaking something of thetimid child, "monsieur le cardinal will tell you that duringmy minority the affairs of France were in jeopardy, -- andthat if I had been older, and obliged to take sword in hand,it would sometimes have been for the evening meal."

"Thanks to God," said the cardinal, who spoke for the firsttime, "your majesty exaggerates, and your supper has alwaysbeen ready with that of your servants."

The king colored.

"Oh!" cried Philip, inconsiderately, from his place, andwithout ceasing to admire himself, -- "I recollect once, atMelun, the supper was laid for nobody, and that the king atetwo-thirds of a slice of bread, and abandoned to me theother third."

The whole assembly, seeing Mazarin smile, began to laugh.Courtiers flatter kings with the remembrance of pastdistresses, as with the hopes of future good fortune.

"It is not to be denied that the crown of France has alwaysremained firm upon the heads of its kings," Anne of Austriahastened to say, "and that it has fallen off of that of theking of England; and when by chance that crown oscillated alittle, -- for there are throne-quakes as well asearthquakes, -- every time, I say, that rebellion threatenedit, a good victory restored tranquillity."

"With a few gems added to the crown," said Mazarin.

The Comte de Guiche was silent: the king composed hiscountenance, and Mazarin exchanged looks with Anne ofAustria, as if to thank her for her intervention.

"It is of no consequence," said Philip, smoothing his hair;"my cousin Charles is not handsome, but he is very brave,and fought like a landsknecht; and if he continues to fightthus, no doubt he will finish by gaining a battle, likeRocroy ---- "

"He has no soldiers," interrupted the Chevalier de Lorraine.

"The king of Holland, his ally, will give him some. I wouldwillingly have given him some if I had been king of France."

Louis XIV. blushed excessively. Mazarin affected to be moreattentive to his game than ever.

"By this time," resumed the Comte de Guiche, "the fortune ofthis unhappy prince is decided. If he has been deceived byMonk, he is ruined. Imprisonment, perhaps death, will finishwhat exile, battles, and privations have commenced."

Mazarin's brow became clouded.

"Is it certain," said Louis XIV. "that his majesty CharlesII., has quitted the Hague?"

"Quite certain, your majesty," replied the young man; "myfather has received a letter containing all the details; itis even known that the king has landed at Dover; somefishermen saw him entering the port; the rest is still amystery."

"I should like to know the rest," said Philip, impetuously."You know, -- you, my brother."

Louis XIV. colored again. That was the third time within anhour. "Ask my lord cardinal," replied he, in a tone whichmade Mazarin, Anne of Austria, and everybody else open theireyes.

"That means, my son," said Anne of Austria, laughing, "thatthe king does not like affairs of state to be talked of outof the council."

Philip received the reprimand with good grace, and bowed,first smiling at his brother, and then his mother. ButMazarin saw from the corner of his eye that a group wasabout to be formed in the corner of the room, and that theDuc d'Anjou, with the Comte de Guiche, and the Chevalier deLorraine, prevented from talking aloud, might say, in awhisper, what it was not convenient should be said. He wasbeginning, then, to dart at them glances full of mistrustand uneasiness, inviting Anne of Austria to throwperturbation in the midst of the unlawful assembly, when,suddenly, Bernouin, entering from behind the tapestry of thebedroom, whispered in the ear of Mazarin, "Monseigneur, anenvoy from his majesty, the king of England."

Mazarin could not help exhibiting a slight emotion, whichwas perceived by the king. To avoid being indiscreet, ratherthan to appear useless, Louis XIV. rose immediately, andapproaching his eminence, wished him good-night. All theassembly had risen with a great noise of rolling of chairsand tables being pushed away.

"Let everybody depart by degrees," said Mazarin in a whisperto Louis XIV., "and be so good as to excuse me a fewminutes. I am going to dispatch an affair about which I wishto converse with your majesty this very evening."

"And the queens?" asked Louis XIV.

"And M. le Duc d'Anjou," said his eminence.

At the same time he turned round in his ruelle, the curtainsof which, in falling, concealed the bed. The cardinal,nevertheless, did not lose sight of the conspirators.

"M. le Comte de Guiche," said he, in a fretful voice, whilstputting on, behind the curtain, his dressing-gown, with theassistance of Bernouin.

The young man sat down at the table from which the kingwithdrew to talk with the two queens. A serious game wascommenced between the comte and several rich courtiers. Inthe meantime Philip was discussing the questions of dresswith the Chevalier de Lorraine, and they had ceased to hearthe rustling of the cardinal's silk robe from behind thecurtain. His eminence had followed Bernouin into the closetadjoining the bedroom.

CHAPTER 40

An Affair of State

The cardinal, on passing into his cabinet, found the Comtede la Fere, who was waiting for him, engaged in admiring avery fine Raphael placed over a sideboard covered withplate. His eminence came in softly, lightly, and silently asa shadow, and surprised the countenance of the comte, as hewas accustomed to do, pretending to divine by the simpleexpression of the face of his interlocutor what would be theresult of the conversation.

But this time Mazarin was foiled in his expectation: he readnothing upon the face of Athos, not even the respect he wasaccustomed to see on all faces. Athos was dressed in black,with a simple lacing of silver. He wore the Holy Ghost, theGarter, and the Golden Fleece, three orders of suchimportance, that a king alone, or else a player, could wearthem at once.

Mazarin rummaged a long time in his somewhat troubled memoryto recall the name he ought to give to this icy figure, buthe did not succeed. "I am told," said he, at length, "youhave a message from England for me."

And he sat down, dismissing Bernouin, who, in his quality ofsecretary, was getting his pen ready.

"On the part of his majesty, the king of England, yes, youreminence."

"You speak very good French for an Englishman monsieur,"said Mazarin, graciously, looking through his fingers at theHoly Ghost, Garter, and Golden Fleece, but more particularlyat the face of the messenger.

"I am not an Englishman, but a Frenchman, monsieur lecardinal," replied Athos.

"It is remarkable that the king of England should choose aFrenchman for his ambassador; it is an excellent augury.Your name, monsieur, if you please."

"I come on the part of his majesty the king of Great Britainto announce to the king of France" -- Mazarin frowned -- "toannounce to the king of France," continued Athos,imperturbably, "the happy restoration of his majesty CharlesII. to the throne of his ancestors."

This shade did not escape his cunning eminence. Mazarin wastoo much accustomed to mankind, not to see in the cold andalmost haughty politeness of Athos, an index of hostility,which was not of the temperature of that hot-house called acourt.

"You have powers. I suppose?" asked Mazarin, in a short,querulous tone.

"Yes, monseigneur." And the word "monseigneur" came sopainfully from the lips of Athos that it might be said itskinned them.

Athos took from an embroidered velvet bag which he carriedunder his doublet a dispatch. The cardinal held out his handfor it. "Your pardon, monseigneur," said Athos. "My dispatchis for the king."

"Since you are a Frenchman, monsieur, you ought to know theposition of a prime minister at the court of France."

"There was a time," replied Athos, "when I occupied myselfwith the importance of prime ministers, but I have formed,long ago, a resolution to treat no longer with any but theking."

"Then, monsieur," said Mazarin, who began to be irritated,"you will neither see the minister nor the king."

Mazarin rose. Athos replaced his dispatch in its bag, bowedgravely, and made several steps towards the door. Thiscoolness exasperated Mazarin. "What strange diplomaticproceedings are these!" cried he. "Have we returned to thetimes when Cromwell sent us bullies in the guise of chargesd'affaires? You want nothing monsieur, but the steel cap onyour head, and a Bible at your girdle."

"Monsieur," said Athos, dryly, "I have never had, as youhave, the advantage of treating with Cromwell; and I haveonly seen his charges d'affaires sword in hand, I amtherefore ignorant of how he treated with prime ministers.As for the king of England, Charles II., I know that when hewrites to his majesty King Louis XIV., he does not write tohis eminence the Cardinal Mazarin. I see no diplomacy inthat distinction."

"Ah!" cried Mazarin, raising his attenuated hand andstriking his head, "I remember now!" Athos looked at him inastonishment. "Yes, that is it!" said the cardinal,continuing to look at his interlocutor; "yes, that iscertainly it. I know you now, monsieur. Ah! diavolo! I am nolonger astonished."

"Always refractory and grumbling -- monsieur -- monsieur --What do they call you? Stop -- a name of a river -- Potamos;no -- the name of an island -- Naxos; no, per Giove! -- thename of a mountain -- Athos! now I have it. Delighted to seeyou again, and to be no longer at Rueil, where you and yourdamned companions made me pay ransom. Fronde! still Fronde!accursed Fronde! Oh, what grudges! Why, monsieur, have yourantipathies survived mine? If any one had cause to complain,I think it could not be you, who got out of the affair notonly in a sound skin, but with the cordon of the Holy Ghostaround your neck."

"My lord cardinal," replied Athos, "permit me not to enterinto considerations of that kind. I have a mission tofulfill. Will you facilitate the means of my fulfilling thatmission, or will you not?"

"I am astonished," said Mazarin, -- quite delighted athaving recovered his memory, and bristling with malice -- "Iam astonished, Monsieur -- Athos -- that a Frondeur like youshould have accepted a mission for the Mazarin, as used tobe said in the good old times ---- " And Mazarin began tolaugh, in spite of a painful cough, which cut short hissentences, converting them into sobs.

"I have only accepted the mission near the king of France,monsieur le cardinal," retorted the comte, though with lessasperity, for he thought he had sufficiently the advantageto show himself moderate.

"And yet, Monsieur le Frondeur," said Mazarin gayly, "theaffair which you have taken in charge must, from the king---- "

"With which I have been given in charge, monseigneur. I donot run after affairs."

"Be it so. I say that this negotiation must pass through myhands. Let us lose no precious time, then. Tell me theconditions."

"I have had the honor of assuring your eminence that onlythe letter of his majesty King Charles II. contains therevelation of his wishes."

"Pooh! you are ridiculous with your obstinacy, MonsieurAthos. It is plain you have kept company with the Puritansyonder. As to your secret, I know it better than you do; andyou have done wrongly, perhaps, in not having shown somerespect for a very old and suffering man, who has laboredmuch during his life, and kept the field for his ideas asbravely as you have for yours. You will not communicate yourletter to me? You will say nothing to me? Very well! Comewith me into my chamber; you shall speak to the king -- andbefore the king. -- Now, then, one last word: who gave youthe Fleece? I remember you passed for having the Garter; butas to the Fleece, I do not know ---- "

"Recently, my lord, Spain, on the occasion of the marriageof his majesty Louis XIV., sent King Charles II. a brevet ofthe Fleece in blank, Charles II. immediately transmitted itto me, filling up the blank with my name."

Mazarin arose, and leaning on the arm of Bernouin, hereturned to his ruelle at the moment the name of M. lePrince was being announced. The Prince de Conde, the firstprince of the blood, the conqueror of Rocroy, Lens andNordlingen, was, in fact, entering the apartment ofMonseigneur de Mazarin, followed by his gentlemen, and hadalready saluted the king, when the prime minister raised hiscurtain. Athos had time to see Raoul pressing the hand ofthe Comte de Guiche, and send him a smile in return for hisrespectful bow. He had time, likewise, to see the radiantcountenance of the cardinal, when he perceived before him,upon the table, an enormous heap of gold, which the Comte deGuiche had won in a run of luck, after his eminence hadconfided his cards to him. So forgetting ambassador, embassyand prince, his first thought was of the gold. "What!" criedthe old man -- "all that -- won?"

"Some fifty thousand crowns; yes, monseigneur!" replied theComte de Guiche, rising. "Must I give up my place to youreminence, or shall I continue?"

"Give up! give up! you are mad. You would lose all you havewon. Peste!"

"My lord!" said the Prince de Conde, bowing.

"Good-evening, monsieur le prince," said the minister, in acareless tone; "it is very kind of you to visit an old sickfriend."

"A friend!" murmured the Comte de la Fere, at witnessingwith stupor this monstrous alliance of words; -- "friends!when the parties are Conde and Mazarin!"

Mazarin seemed to divine the thought of the Frondeur, for hesmiled upon him with triumph, and immediately, -- "Sire,"said he to the king, "I have the honor of presenting to yourmajesty, Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, ambassador from hisBritannic majesty. An affair of state, gentlemen," added he,waving his hand to all who filled the chamber, and who, thePrince de Conde at their head, all disappeared at the simplegesture. Raoul, after a last look cast at the comte,followed M. de Conde. Philip of Anjou and the queen appearedto be consulting about departing.

"A family affair," said Mazarin, suddenly, detaining them intheir seats. "This gentleman is the bearer of a letter inwhich King Charles II., completely restored to his throne,demands an alliance between Monsieur, the brother of theking, and Mademoiselle Henrietta, grand-daughter of HenryIV. Will you remit your letter of credit to the king,monsieur le comte?"

Athos remained for a minute stupefied. How could theminister possibly know the contents of the letter which hadnever been out of his keeping for a single instant?Nevertheless, always master of himself, he held out thedispatch to the young king, Louis XIV., who took it with ablush. A solemn silence reigned in the cardinal's chamber.It was only troubled by the dull sound of the gold, whichMazarin with his yellow dry hand, piled up in a casket,whilst the king was reading.

CHAPTER 41

The Recital

The maliciousness of the cardinal did not leave much for theambassador to say; nevertheless, the word "restoration" hadstruck the king, who, addressing the comte, upon whom hiseyes had been fixed since his entrance, -- "Monsieur," saidhe, "will you have the kindness to give us some detailsconcerning the affairs of England. You come from thatcountry, you are a Frenchman, and the orders which I seeglittering upon your person announce you to be a man ofmerit as well as a man of quality."

Anne of Austria was as oblivious as a queen whose life hadbeen mingled with fine and stormy days. She looked atMazarin, whose evil smile promised her somethingdisagreeable; then she solicited from Athos, by anotherlook, an explanation.

"Monsieur," continued the cardinal, "was a Trevillemusketeer, in the service of the late king. Monsieur is wellacquainted with England, whither he has made several voyagesat various periods; he is a subject of the highest merit.

These words made allusion to all the memories which Anne ofAustria trembled to evoke. England, that was her hatred ofRichelieu and her love for Buckingham; a Treville musketeer,that was the whole Odyssey of the triumphs which had madethe heart of the young woman throb, and of the dangers whichhad been so near overturning the throne of the young queen.These words had much power, for they rendered mute andattentive all the royal personages, who, with very varioussentiments, set about recomposing at the same time themysteries which the young had not seen, and which the oldhad believed to be forever effaced.

"Speak, monsieur," said Louis XIV., the first to escape fromtroubles, suspicions, and remembrances.

"Sire," said the comte, "a sort of miracle has changed thewhole destiny of Charles II. That which men, till that time,had been unable to do, God resolved to accomplish."

Mazarin coughed while tossing about in his bed.

"King Charles II.," continued Athos, "left the Hague neitheras a fugitive nor a conqueror, but as an absolute king, who,after a distant voyage from his kingdom, returns amidstuniversal benedictions."

"A great miracle, indeed," said Mazarin; "for, if the newswas true, King Charles II., who has just returned amidstbenedictions, went away amidst musket-shots."

The king remained impassible. Philip, younger and morefrivolous, could not repress a smile, which flatteredMazarin as an applause of his pleasantry.

"It is plain," said the king, "there is a miracle; but God,who does so much for kings, monsieur le comte, neverthelessemploys the hand of man to bring about the triumph of Hisdesigns. To what men does Charles II. principally owe hisre-establishment?"

"Why," interrupted Mazarin, without any regard for theking's pride -- "does not your majesty know that it is to M.Monk?"

"And your majesty touches precisely the question," repliedAthos, "for without the miracle of which I have had thehonor to speak, General Monk would probably have remained animplacable enemy of Charles II. God willed that a strange,bold, and ingenious idea should enter into the mind of acertain man, whilst a devoted and courageous idea tookpossession of the mind of another man. The combinations ofthese two ideas brought about such a change in the positionof M. Monk, that, from an inveterate enemy, he became afriend to the deposed king."

"These are exactly the details I asked for," said the king."Who and what are the two men of whom you speak?"

"Two Frenchmen, sire."

"Indeed! I am glad of that."

"And the two ideas," said Mazarin; -- "I am more curiousabout ideas than about men, for my part."

"Yes," murmured the king.

"The second idea, the devoted, reasonable idea -- the leastimportant, sir -- was to go and dig up a million in gold,buried by King Charles I. at Newcastle, and to purchase withthat gold the adherence of Monk."

"Oh, oh!" said Mazarin, reanimated by the word million. "ButNewcastle was at the time occupied by Monk."

"Yes, monsieur le cardinal, and that is why I venture tocall the idea courageous as well as devoted. It wasnecessary, if Monk refused the offers of the negotiator, toreinstate King Charles II. in possession of this million,which was to be torn, as it were, from the loyalty and notthe royalism of General Monk. This was effected in spite ofmany difficulties: the general proved to be loyal, andallowed the money to be taken away."

"It seems to me," said the timid, thoughtful king, "thatCharles II. could not have known of this million whilst hewas in Paris."

"It seems to me," rejoined the cardinal, maliciously, "thathis majesty the king of Great Britain knew perfectly well ofthis million, but that he preferred having two millions tohaving one."

"Sire," said Athos, firmly, "the king of England, whilst inFrance, was so poor that he had not even money to take thepost; so destitute of hope that he frequently thought ofdying. He was so entirely ignorant of the existence of themillion at Newcastle, that but for a gentleman -- one ofyour majesty's subjects -- the moral depositary of themillion, who revealed the secret to King Charles II., thatprince would still be vegetating in the most cruelforgetfulness."

"Let us pass on to the strange, bold and ingenious idea,"interrupted Mazarin, whose sagacity foresaw a check. "Whatwas that idea?"

"This -- M. Monk formed the only obstacle to there-establishment of the fallen king. A Frenchman imaginedthe idea of suppressing this obstacle."

"Oh! oh! but he is a scoundrel, that Frenchman," saidMazarin, "and the idea is not so ingenious as to prevent itsauthor being tied up by the neck at the Place de Greve, bydecree of the parliament."

"Your eminence is mistaken," replied Athos, dryly; "I didnot say that the Frenchman in question had resolved toassassinate M. Monk, but only to suppress him. The words ofthe French language have a value which the gentlemen ofFrance know perfectly. Besides, this is an affair of war;and when men serve kings against their enemies they are notto be condemned by a parliament -- God is their judge. ThisFrench gentleman, then, formed the idea of gainingpossession of the person of Monk, and he executed his plan."

The king became animated at the recital of great actions.The king's younger brother struck the table with his hand,exclaiming, "Ah! that is fine!"

"He carried off Monk?" said the king. "Why, Monk was in hiscamp."

"And the gentleman was alone, sire."

"That is marvelous!" said Philip.

"Marvelous, indeed!" cried the king.

"Good! There are the two little lions unchained," murmuredthe cardinal. And with an air of spite, which he did notdissemble: "I am unacquainted with these details, will youguarantee their authenticity, monsieur?"

"All the more easily, my lord cardinal, from having seen theevents."

"You have?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

The king had involuntarily drawn close to the count, the Ducd'Anjou had turned sharply round, and pressed Athos on theother side.

"What next? monsieur, what next?" cried they both at thesame time.

"Sire, M. Monk, being taken by the Frenchman, was brought toKing Charles II., at the Hague. The king gave back hisfreedom to Monk, and the grateful general, in return, gaveCharles II. the throne of Great Britain, for which so manyvaliant men had fought in vain."

"That one of my gentlemen knew the secret of the million,and kept it?"

"Yes, sire."

"The name of that gentleman?"

"It was your humble servant," said Athos, simply, andbowing.

A murmur of admiration made the heart of Athos swell withpleasure. He had reason to be proud, at least. Mazarin,himself, had raised his arms towards heaven.

"Monsieur," said the king, "I shall seek, and find means toreward you." Athos made a movement. "Oh, not for yourhonesty, to be paid for that would humiliate you, but I oweyou a reward for having participated in the restoration ofmy brother, King Charles II."

"Certainly," said Mazarin.

"It is the triumph of a good cause which fills the wholehouse of France with joy," said Anne of Austria.

"I continue," said Louis XIV. "Is it also true that a singleman penetrated to Monk, in his camp, and carried him off?"

Anne of Austria colored; Mazarin became yellow with shame;Louis XIV. was deeply thoughtful, and a drop of moisturefell from his pale brow. "What men!" murmured he. And,involuntarily, he darted a glance at the minister whichwould have terrified him, if Mazarin, at the moment, had notconcealed his head under his pillow.

"Monsieur," said the young Duc d'Anjou, placing his hand,delicate and white as that of a woman, upon the arm ofAthos, "tell that brave man, I beg you, that Monsieur,brother of the king, will to-morrow drink his health beforefive hundred of the best gentlemen of France." And, onfinishing these words, the young man, perceiving that hisenthusiasm had deranged one of his ruffles, set to work toput it to rights with the greatest care imaginable.

"Let us resume business, sire," interrupted Mazarin whonever was enthusiastic, and who wore no ruffles.

Athos immediately began and offered in due form the hand ofthe Princess Henrietta Stuart to the young prince, theking's brother. The conference lasted an hour; after whichthe doors of the chamber were thrown open to the courtiers,who resumed their places as if nothing had been kept fromthem in the occupations of that evening. Athos then foundhimself again with Raoul, and the father and son were ableto clasp each other's hands.

CHAPTER 42

In which Mazarin becomes Prodigal

Whilst Mazarin was endeavoring to recover from the seriousalarm he had just experienced, Athos and Raoul wereexchanging a few words in a corner of the apartment. "Well,here you are at Paris, then, Raoul?" said the comte.

"Yes, monsieur, since the return of M. le Prince."

"I cannot converse freely with you here, because we areobserved; but I shall return home presently, and shallexpect you as soon as your duty permits."

Raoul bowed, and, at that moment, M. le Prince came up tothem. The prince had that clear and keen look whichdistinguishes birds of prey of the noble species; hisphysiognomy itself presented several distinct traits of thisresemblance. It is known that in the Prince de Conde, theaquiline nose rose out sharply and incisively from a browslightly retreating, rather low than high, and according tothe railers of the court, -- a pitiless race even forgenius, -- constituted rather an eagle's beak than a humannose, in the heir of the illustrious princes of the house ofConde. This penetrating look, this imperious expression ofthe whole countenance generally disturbed those to whom theprince spoke, more than either majesty or regular beautycould have done in the conqueror of Rocroy. Besides this,the fire mounted so suddenly to his projecting eyes, thatwith the prince every sort of animation resembled passion.Now, on account of his rank, everybody at the courtrespected M. le Prince, and many even, seeing only the man,carried their respect as far as terror.

Louis de Conde then advanced towards the Comte de la Fereand Raoul, with the marked intention of being saluted by theone, and of speaking to the other. No man bowed with morereserved grace than the Comte de la Fere. He disdained toput into a salutation all the shades which a courtierordinarily borrows from the same color -- the desire toplease. Athos knew his own personal value, and bowed to theprince like a man, correcting by something sympathetic andundefinable that which might have appeared offensive to thepride of the highest rank in the inflexibility of hisattitude. The prince was about to speak to Raoul. Athosforestalled him. "If M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne," said he,"were not one of the humble servants of your royal highness,I would beg him to pronounce my name before you -- monprince."

"One of the most honorable men in the kingdom," continuedthe prince; "one of the first gentlemen of France, and ofwhom I have heard so much that I have frequently desired tonumber him among my friends."

"An honour of which I should be unworthy," replied Athos,"but for the respect and admiration I entertain for yourroyal highness."

"Monsieur de Bragelonne," said the prince, "is a goodofficer, and it is plainly seen that he has been to a goodschool. Ah, monsieur le comte, in your time, generals hadsoldiers!"

"That is true, my lord, but nowadays soldiers havegenerals."

This compliment, which savored so little of flattery, gave athrill of joy to the man whom already Europe considered ahero; and who might be thought to be satiated with praise.

"I regret very much," continued the prince, "that you shouldhave retired from the service, monsieur le comte, for it ismore than probable that the king will soon have a war withHolland or England, and opportunities for distinguishinghimself would not be wanting for a man who, like you, knowsGreat Britain as well as you do France."

"I believe I may say, monseigneur, that I have acted wiselyin retiring from the service," said Athos, smiling. "Franceand Great Britain will henceforward live like two sisters,if I can trust my presentiments."

"Your presentiments?"

"Stop, monseigneur, listen to what is being said yonder, atthe table of my lord the cardinal."

"Where they are playing?"

"Yes, my lord."

The cardinal had just raised himself on one elbow, and madea sign to the king's brother, who went to him.

"My lord," said the cardinal, "pick up, if you please, allthose gold crowns." And he pointed to the enormous pile ofyellow and glittering pieces which the Comte de Guiche hadraised by degrees before him by a surprising run of luck atplay.

"For me?" cried the Duc d'Anjou.

"Those fifty thousand crowns; yes, monseigneur, they areyours."

"Do you give them to me?"

"I have been playing on your account, monseigneur," repliedthe cardinal, getting weaker and weaker, as if this effortof giving money had exhausted all his physical and moralfaculties.

"Oh, good heavens!" exclaimed Philip, wild with joy, "what afortunate day!" And he himself, making a rake of hisfingers, drew a part of the sum into his pockets, which hefilled, and still full a third remained on the table.

"Chevalier," said Philip to his favorite, the Chevalier deLorraine, "come hither, chevalier." The favorite quicklyobeyed. "Pocket the rest," said the young prince.

This singular scene was considered by the persons presentonly as a touching kind of family fete. The cardinal assumedthe airs of a father with the sons of France, and the twoyoung princes had grown up under his wing. No one thenimputed to pride, or even impertinence, as would be donenowadays, this liberality on the part of the first minister.The courtiers were satisfied with envying the prince. -- Theking turned away his head.

"I never had so much money before," said the young prince,joyously, as he crossed the chamber with his favorite to goto his carriage. "No, never! What a weight these crownsare!"

"But why has monsieur le cardinal given all this money atonce?" asked M. le Prince of the Comte de la Fere. "He mustbe very ill, the dear cardinal!"

"Yes, my lord, very ill; without doubt; he looks very ill,as your royal highness may perceive."

"But surely he will die of it. A hundred and fifty thousandcrowns! Oh, it is incredible! But, comte tell me a reasonfor it?"

"Patience, monseigneur, I beg of you. Here comes M. le Ducd'Anjou, talking with the Chevalier de Lorraine; I shouldnot be surprised if they spared us the trouble of beingindiscreet. Listen to them."

In fact the chevalier said to the prince in a low voice, "Mylord, it is not natural for M. Mazarin to give you so muchmoney. Take care! you will let some of the pieces fall, mylord. What design has the cardinal upon you to make him sogenerous?"

"As I said," whispered Athos in the prince's ear; "that,perhaps, is the best reply to your question."

"Tell me, my lord," repeated the chevalier impatiently, ashe was calculating, by weighing them in his pocket, thequota of the sum which had fallen to his share by rebound.

"My dear chevalier, a wedding present."

"How a wedding present?"

"Eh! yes, I am going to be married," replied the Ducd'Anjou, without perceiving, at the moment, he was passingthe prince and Athos, who both bowed respectfully.

The chevalier darted at the young duke a glance so strange,and so malicious, that the Comte de la Fere quite started onbeholding it.

"You! you to be married!" repeated he; "oh! that'simpossible. You would not commit such a folly!"

"Bah! I don't do it myself; I am made to do it," replied theDuc d'Anjou. "But come, quick! let us get rid of our money."Thereupon he disappeared with his companion, laughing andtalking, whilst all heads were bowed on his passage.

"Then," whispered the prince to Athos, "that is the secret."

"It was not I that told you so, my lord."

"He is to marry the sister of Charles II.?"

"I believe so."

The prince reflected for a moment, and his eye shot forthone of its not unfrequent flashes. "Humph!" said he slowly,as if speaking to himself; "our swords are once more to behung on the wall -- for a long time!" and he sighed.

All that sigh contained of ambition silently stifled, ofextinguished illusions and disappointed hopes, Athos alonedivined, for he alone had heard that sigh. Immediatelyafter, the prince took leave and the king left theapartment. Athos, by a sign made to Bragelonne, renewed thedesire he had expressed at the beginning of the scene. Bydegrees the chamber was deserted, and Mazarin was leftalone, a prey to suffering which he could no longerdissemble. "Bernouin! Bernouin!" cried he, in a brokenvoice.

"What does monseigneur want?"

"Guenaud -- let Guenaud be sent for," said his eminence. "Ithink I'm dying."

Bernouin, in great terror, rushed into the cabinet to givethe order, and the piqueur, who hastened to fetch thephysician, passed the king's carriage in the Rue SaintHonore.

CHAPTER 43

Guenaud

The cardinal's order was pressing; Guenaud quickly obeyedit. He found his patient stretched on his bed, his legsswelled, his face livid, and his stomach collapsed. Mazarinhad a severe attack of gout. He suffered tortures with theimpatience of a man who has not been accustomed toresistances. On seeing Guenaud: "Ah!" said he; "now I amsaved!"

Guenaud was a very learned and circumspect man, who stood inno need of the critiques of Boileau to obtain a reputation.When facing a disease, if it were personified in a king, hetreated the patient as a Turk treats a Moor. He did not,therefore, reply to Mazarin as the minister expected: "Hereis the doctor; good-bye disease!" On the contrary, onexamining his patient, with a very serious air:

"Oh! oh!" said he.

"Eh! what! Guenaud! How you look at me!"

"I look as I should on seeing your complaint, my lord; it isa very dangerous one."

"The gout -- oh! yes, the gout."

"With complications, my lord"

Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow, and, questioning bylook and gesture: "What do you mean by that? Am I worse thanI believe myself to be?"

"My lord," said Guenaud, seating himself beside the bed,"your eminence has worked very hard during your life; youreminence has suffered much."

"But I am not old, I fancy. The late M. de Richelieu was butseventeen months younger than I am when he died, and died ofa mortal disease. I am young, Guenaud: remember, I amscarcely fifty-two."

"Oh! my lord, you are much more than that. How long did theFronde last?"

"For what purpose do you put such a question to me?"

"For a medical calculation, monseigneur."

"Well, some ten years -- off and on."

"Very well, be kind enough to reckon every year of theFronde as three years -- that makes thirty; now twenty andfifty-two makes seventy-two years. You are seventy-two, mylord; and that is a great age."

Whilst saying this, he felt the pulse of his patient. Thispulse was full of such fatal indications, that the physiciancontinued, notwithstanding the interruptions of the patient:"Put down the years of the Fronde at four each, and you havelived eighty-two years."

"Are you speaking seriously, Guenaud?"

"Alas! yes, monseigneur."

"You take a roundabout way, then, to inform me that I amvery ill?"

"Ma foi! yes, my lord, and with a man of the mind andcourage of your eminence, it ought not to be necessary todo."

The cardinal breathed with such difficulty that he inspiredpity even in a pitiless physician. "There are diseases anddiseases," resumed Mazarin. "From some of them peopleescape."

"That is true, my lord."

"Is it not?" cried Mazarin, almost joyously; "for, in short,what else would be the use of power, of strength of will?What would the use of genius be -- your genius, Guenaud?What would be the use of science and art, if the patient,who disposes of all that, cannot be saved from peril?"

Guenaud was about to open his mouth, but Mazarin continued:

"Remember," said he, "I am the most confiding of yourpatients; remember I obey you blindly, and that consequently---- "

"I know all that," said Guenaud.

"I shall be cured, then?"

"Monseigneur, there is neither strength of will, nor power,nor genius, nor science that can resist a disease which Goddoubtless sends, or which He casts upon the earth at thecreation, with full power to destroy and kill mankind. Whenthe disease is mortal, it kills, and nothing can ---- "

"Is -- my -- disease -- mortal?" asked Mazarin.

"Yes, my lord."

His eminence sank down for a moment, like an unfortunatewretch who is crushed by a falling column. But the spirit ofMazarin was a strong one, or rather his mind was a firm one."Guenaud," said he, recovering from his first shock, "youwill permit me to appeal from your judgment. I will calltogether the most learned men of Europe: I will consultthem. I will live, in short, by the virtue of I care notwhat remedy."

"My lord must not suppose," said Guenaud, "that I have thepresumption to pronounce alone upon an existence so valuableas yours. I have already assembled all the good physiciansand practitioners of France and Europe. There were twelve ofthem."

"And they said ---- "

"They said that your eminence was suffering from a mortaldisease; I have the consultation signed in my portfolio. Ifyour eminence will please to see it, you will find the namesof all the incurable diseases we have met with. There isfirst ---- "

"No, no!" cried Mazarin, pushing away the paper. "No, no,Guenaud, I yield! I yield!" And a profound silence, duringwhich the cardinal resumed his senses and recovered hisstrength, succeeded to the agitation of this scene. "Thereis another thing," murmured Mazarin; "there are empirics andcharlatans. In my country, those whom physicians abandon runthe chance of a quack, who kills them ten times but savesthem a hundred times."

"Has not your eminence observed, that during the last monthI have changed my remedies ten times?"

"Yes. Well?"

"Well, I have spent fifty thousand crowns in purchasing thesecrets of all these fellows: the list is exhausted, and sois my purse. You are not cured; and but for my art, youwould be dead."

The physician was about to depart; the dying man, raisinghimself up: "Silence!" said he, with flaming eyes,"silence!"

"My lord, I have known this secret two months; you see thatI have kept it faithfully."

"Go, Guenaud, I will take care of your fortunes, go and tellBrienne to send me a clerk called M. Colbert. Go!"

CHAPTER 44

Colbert

Colbert was not far off. During the whole evening he hadremained in one of the corridors, chatting with Bernouin andBrienne, and commenting, with the ordinary skill of peopleof a court, upon the news which developed like air-bubblesupon the water, on the surface of each event. It isdoubtless time to trace, in a few words, one of the mostinteresting portraits of the age, and to trace it with asmuch truth, perhaps, as contemporary painters have been ableto do. Colbert was a man in whom the historian and themoralist have an equal right.

He was thirteen years older than Louis XIV., his futuremaster. Of middle height, rather lean than otherwise, he haddeep-set eyes, a mean appearance, his hair was coarse, blackand thin, which, say the biographers of his time, made himtake early to the skull-cap. A look of severity, orharshness even, a sort of stiffness, which, with inferiors,was pride, with superiors an affectation of superior virtue;a surly cast of countenance upon all occasions, even whenlooking at himself in a glass alone -- such is the exteriorof this personage. As to the moral part of his character,the depth of his talent for accounts, and his ingenuity inmaking sterility itself productive, were much boasted of.Colbert had formed the idea of forcing governors of frontierplaces to feed the garrisons without pay, with what theydrew from contributions. Such a valuable quality madeMazarin think of replacing Joubert, his intendant, who hadrecently died, by M. Colbert, who had such skill in nibblingdown allowances. Colbert by degrees crept into court,notwithstanding his lowly birth, for he was the son of a manwho sold wine as his father had done, but who afterwardssold cloth, and then silk stuffs. Colbert, destined fortrade, had been clerk in Lyons to a merchant, whom he hadquitted to come to Paris in the office of a Chateletprocureur named Biterne. It was here he learned the art of